


En Avant

by Alyson_Page



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics), Red Robin (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ballet, Do you even lift?, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Everybody dances, French terminology, M/M, Mentions of Dick/Barbara and Roy/Koriand'r, NO CAPES, Past Dick Grayson/Koriand'r
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-30
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:40:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27794731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alyson_Page/pseuds/Alyson_Page
Summary: “Who’s that?” Tim asked, leaning into Stephanie’s shoulder.“Fuck me,” Stephanie gasped quietly, “that’s Jason Todd.”“Who?”“He’s one of Bruce’s kids,” Stephanie muttered quickly, tone hushed and urgent, “Adopted like Dick, not like Damian. He was a principal here when I started three years ago, but we were only in one show together before he left.”“Why did he leave?”“No idea, it was really hush-hush. Literally he was at rehearsal one day and the next, he was gone. Load of rumors: drugs, illness, some blowout with Bruce,” Stephanie shook her head, still in partial disbelief. “This is wild.”
Relationships: Tim Drake/Jason Todd
Comments: 30
Kudos: 110





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Welcome to my Gotham City Ballet AU! This is one of two No-Capes stories I want to write, the second being a Regency Era story, but this one formulated more quickly. En Avant, is a term used to describe the direction of a movement, in this case, "Forward".

* * *

The Ballet painted a picture of softness, pastel backdrops, iridescent appliques, and floating skirts of tulle and chiffon. Dancers flitted ghost-like across wood and marley covered floors, turning and leaping, bodies suspended in the air above the romantic push and pull of the orchestra.

The beautiful phantasms it presented, however, were only an illusion. Under the music, the hard wooden box of the ballerina’s pointe shoes clicked staccato against the floor, fabric rustled, breaths came hard and fast as they drifted from movement to movement, feet bruised and blistered, toes bleeding into pale pink tights.

The Gotham City Ballet was founded by Thomas and Martha Wayne, who had both been principal dancers with the American Ballet in their prime, before their death left their only son orphaned. Bruce Wayne followed in his parent’s footsteps, continuing to study at the company’s dance academy before becoming a principal dancer until his retirement. Now the artistic director, he continued to foster the education of dancers that were accepted into the program.

Tim Drake had studied in New York, where he danced in the New York City Ballet for two years in the corps before moving to Gotham when he was offered a position as a coryphée, which allowed him more solo opportunities than had been available in New York. He had been in Gotham nine months, living off coffee and granola bars, practically sleeping in the studio as he learned the shows in the company’s repertoire.

Still sweating from his jumps and turns session, Tim’s damp brow was pressed against his thigh as he stretched against the bar. The room was filling up for partner work, and Stephanie was pushed into the floor in her middle split near his foot, picking at the frayed cuffs of her sweatshirt.

“You going to come out tonight?” Stephanie asked. “I’ve got a gift card for Bolsonaro’s, my treat.”

“Can’t,” Tim breathed. “I’ve booked studio four.”

“So, you lose a deposit on a room that doesn’t cost you anything?”

“It’s not fair to sign up for the time slot and not show up,” Tim pointed out.

“You’re so boring,” Steph bemoaned, unfolding, and pushing her bare toes against Tim’s ankle. “And I room with a girl who’s only other form of stimulation is mediation and books.”

“Ask me next time,” Tim said, switching to his other leg.

“You always say that. And then I do, and then you just say that again.”

“Keep it up, and someday my answer might change.”

“You just want me stuck in a loop of eternal punishment.”

“Forever is an awfully long time, Sisyphus,” Tim whispered with a heavy waggle of his eyebrows.

“You’re such an ass,” she smiled, slipping on gel toe pads and pulling up her satin shoes.

Tim dropped beside her, redoing his short ponytail as she secured the ribbons around her ankles. “Just trying to make you feel comfortable.”

Stephanie stuck her tongue out at him before continuing to warm up, pulling and stretching her limbs until she could slip off her outer layers for her standard black rehearsal leotard.

The pianist arrived first, plucking out chords and bits of music as the dancers stayed limber, watching the clock as it ticked towards the top of the hour. Mistress Kyle strode in a few moments later, her short, feathery brown hair slicked back against the slender curve of her head. Selina Kyle was as intimidating as a teacher as she had been as a dancer. Always serious, she was Russian trained, and it showed in the very way she walked around the studio. Today, she was followed in by someone Tim didn’t recognize. He was handsome, tall and athletic, but not dressed for dancing.

“Who’s that?” Tim asked, leaning into Stephanie’s shoulder.

“Fuck me,” Stephanie gasped quietly, “that’s Jason Todd.”

“Who?”

“He’s one of Bruce’s kids,” Stephanie muttered quickly, tone hushed and urgent, “Adopted like Dick, not like Damian. He was a principal here when I started three years ago, but we were only in one show together before he left.”

“Why did he leave?”

“No idea, it was really hush-hush. Literally he was at rehearsal one day and the next, he was gone. Load of rumors: drugs, illness, some blowout with Bruce,” Stephanie shook her head, still in partial disbelief. “This is wild.”

“Line up, please,” Selina ordered with a sharp clap, scanning them all with a narrowed gaze as they filed into place. “For those of you who don’t know, this is Jason Todd. He used to be a company member here and will be taking over this class for me for the foreseeable future while I work with some of the academy classes. It should go without saying that he is to be treated with the same respect that you have all given me.” She paused, the silence stretching on at unnecessary length as though someone would offer a contradiction. “Places for warm up.”

Practiced, they took their places at the bar, the music starting up soft and smooth as she began to glide around the room, ready to make corrections.

“Hair is new though,” Stephanie observed quietly as they passed through their _round de jambes_.

“He dyes it?” Tim asked between his teeth, arching back, Stephanie just visible behind the smooth bend of his arm.

“He started dying it back when he was a teenager, probably to look like Bruce. Rumor is that he is a natural redhead. The white bit is new though.”

“Latent rebellion?” Tim suggested, bending forward and speaking back to her through his knees, “Artistic self-expression?”

“It’s hot.”

Tim could feel himself turning pink at her words, “ _Stephanie._ ”

“It is. He is. I hope he likes to do demos,” Stephanie cooed. “Bet you’re weightless with those big hands on your hips.”

“Keep your perversions to yourself,” Tim hissed.

“A little fantasy never hurt anyone.”

“He’s your new teacher.”

“As if it would be the most unseemly thing to happen at an institute for the arts.”

A sudden stamp had them both tensing, breaking the flow of their rotation. “Is there a problem, Miss Brown?”

“No, Mistress Kyle. Sorry,” Stephanie apologized, eyes turned bashfully at the floor. Selina pursed her lips but walked on, with Stephanie and Tim both teaming silently through the rest of the bar work.

“Everyone to the corner. Across the floor; _Tombe, pas de buree, glisaade, pas de chat_.”

The music changed tempo and Tim took his place behind Stephanie, to the left of her shoulder, executing the combo with the other pairs, lifting Stephanie through the cat like jump as Selina spoke covertly with Jason in the opposite corner.

Jason stood straight, arms crossed and brow furrowed in way that radiated anger, and not sternness. If he was there on his own volition, he certainly was not giving off that impression, and the more he watched, the more Tim was sure he had been coerced in some way to attending.

As they progressed through increasingly complicated combinations, Jason remained unmoved. He shifted only when they moved to the center of the floor to begin lifts, placing himself nearer the piano for a fuller view of the room.

At the end of the two-hour session, Tim was warming down by his bag, slipping his joggers over his black leggings, when Roy crossed the room to Jason, his own bag slung over his shoulder. In a surge of curiosity Tim prolonged his stretching to listen in on their exchange.

“What the hell, Jay,” Roy scoffed, wrapping his arms around him. “why didn’t you tell me you were coming back?”

Jason returned the hug, clapping his arms enthusiastically against Roy’s back. “It was a last-minute decision.” He explained, his voice low and gravelly, reverberating warmly from his broad chest.

“Still, you could have said,” Roy laughed, smiling fondly. “You wanna come over tonight, I can catch you up on everything you’ve missed.”

“It’s probably better if I stay missing it. But once I am settled, we can go out. If you’re okay with hanging out with an instructor.”

“You’ve been telling me what to do on the dance floor long before this, I don’t think it will change much.”

“You still have lazy follow-through with your arms,” Jason criticized, taking Roy’s hand and shaping his digits precisely. “You’ve got reach all the way through your fingers, Roy.”

“Whatever, asshole. You wanna go out for a smoke?”

“Yeah, could really use one.”

“Tim,” Stephanie hissed from outside the door, staring pointedly at him and the otherwise deserted classroom.

Tim flushed, bending down and pulling up his bag with much more force then intended, the weight of it swinging back and halting with a thunk. Tim turned over his shoulder, his bag gripped between Jason’s hands.

“Sorry-“

“Watch what you’re doing, _Cavalier_.”

Tim prickled at the insult, pulling his bag out of Jason’ grip, his face filling hot with color. “It was an accident.”

Jason rolled his eyes, brushing past Tim, Roy following him with a parting apologetic shrug in return to Tim’s bewildered expression. Tim joined Stephanie in the hall, who was watching Roy and Jason retreat with a mix of visceral appreciation and confusion.

“Did he call you a Cav? Damn, you did not make a good first impression,” Stephanie pointed out unnecessarily, still staring at their retreating backsides. 

“It was an accident. And I said I was sorry.”

“You shouldn’t have been eavesdropping, then.”

“It’s your fault,” Tim accused, “You made me curious.”

“Well,” Stephanie prodded, starting them off towards the stairs, “Did you find out anything?”

“Roy didn’t know he was coming back.”

“Seriously? That’s…odd. Roy was his best friend here. People were badgering him when Jason first disappeared, and he went _off_. I don’t know if he ever knew anything more than anyone else, but the subject was officially dropped.”

“Okay, we shouldn’t talk about this anymore.” Tim huffed, “I don’t want to gossip.”

“Noooo,” Stephanie whined, tugging at his arm, “I’ve been trying to get you to gossip with me since you got here. Let me tell you about Dick and-”

“No,” Tim said flatly, pulling his arm away, “No, I already know too much.”

Stephanie pouted, blinking with puppy dog eyes. “Indulge me.”

“No, I have weight training. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to come tonight?” Stephanie asked once more. “Everyone will be talking about Jason.”

“You are relentless,” Tim sighed fondly.

“Thank you,” she winked lavishly. “Don’t overdo it, okay?”

“I won’t,” Tim promised, reshouldering his bag, starting up the staircase as Stephanie started to go down, “Have fun.”

* * *


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Uh, excuse me, Mr…Master Todd?”
> 
> “Jason,” he clipped, looking up with a flash of his glass-green eyes. The brilliance of the overhead lighting did nothing to diminish their startling brightness and it only highlighted the scattered freckles across his nose and cheeks. “Just Jason.”
> 
> Tim swallowed, trying to ease the dryness that suddenly crept over him. “Jason, hi. I’m Tim. I just wanted to apologize again for the other day. I was careless, and I don’t want us to get off on the wrong foot-“
> 
> “Yeah,” Jason cut it in quickly with an agreeable nod, his book closing with a soft snap, “No problem.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Years Eve! All the French Dance terms are italicized, none of it should effect the understanding of the story, but if you want to know exactly what they are doing it should make it easier to search for that way.

* * *

There was a fifteen-minute gap between the men’s jumps and turns session and the hour and a half of partner work. While most of the dancers used the passing time to congregate or take a smoke break, Tim typically opted to go straight to the studio. Today, he stalled, peering furtively through the window.

Jason was already there stretching, the thrum of mid-tempo music reverberating against the door. Stephanie would be pleased; he was dressed in a pair of grey dance trousers and a fitted black T-shirt that pulled across the broad expanse of his back as he tipped forward. The odds that he would be an active teacher were high.

Pushing aside his embarrassment, Tim pulled open the door, taking his usual spot to begin his own warm up routine. Jason didn’t look up when he came in, but he took a drink of water and turned off his music before snatching up a notebook and giving it his full attention.

Tim watched in what he hoped was a covert way, peering up whenever he changed sides. Jason’s eyes were fixed hard on the paper, his lips moving intently as he read, a pen occasionally finding its way between his teeth as he turned the page.

With eleven minutes to the top hour, Tim had a small window before either Tam or Bart arrived, they were always the next to show up after him. Opting for bravery, he shrugged off his jacket, shoving it into his bag and bringing them over to the cubbies.

“Uh, excuse me, Mr…Master Todd?”

“Jason,” he clipped, looking up with a flash of his glass-green eyes. The brilliance of the overhead lighting did nothing to diminish their startling brightness and it only highlighted the scattered freckles across his nose and cheeks. “Just Jason.”

Tim swallowed, trying to ease the dryness that suddenly crept over him. “Jason, hi. I’m Tim. I just wanted to apologize again for the other day. I was careless, and I don’t want us to get off on the wrong foot-“

“Yeah,” Jason cut it in quickly with an agreeable nod, his book closing with a soft snap, “No problem.”

“Oh,” Tim squeaked, taking a half step back in surprise. “Great. Well, it’s nice to meet you. And uhh…break a leg, on your first day.”

Jason stared at him, his head falling with a quizzical lilt as Tim retreated to the bar. He dipped back into his warmup, catching Jason’s eyes once more as he dropped into a split, but was saved from any further humiliating conversation by the door whipping open and the other company members beginning to file in with usual chatter.

“Hey, sweets,” Stephanie greeted, dropping beside him.

“Hey," TIm smiled back, "good evening?”

“Yeah, Garfield had too much tequila and tried to get Rae to dance with him. So, if he looked a little green in the gills this morning, that’s why.”

“That explains why he fumbled out of three sets _fouetté_ turns today.”

“That’s ego bruising,” Stephanie snickered, looking over to where Gar leaned exhaustedly against the wall.

“He’s a laid-back guy,” Tim observed, “I think he can take it.”

Stephanie lowered her voice, biting her lip suggestively. “Now that you mention taking it…”

“If you’re going to say something gross or sexual right now, please do not.”

“Actually,” Stephanie drawled, “I was going to ask how Jason took your second apology? I assumed you tried to make amends again, because you’re a spineless fish, desperate for your superiors’ approval.”

“ _Wow_. How much tequila did you have to put you in such a stroppy mood?”

“I’m not in a mood,” Stephanie elbowed him playfully, “I’m just concerned over your lack of self-respect.”

Tim nudged her back with a soft smile, “He said everything is fine. I promise my self-respect is intact.

“Let me alone with him and mine wouldn't be,” Stephanie winked.

“You need an actual relationship,” Tim hissed, “Save yourself from yourself, you’re a travesty.”

Stephanie flashed her teeth and pinched his cheek, “But a relationship would take away all the valuable time I’ve set aside to torment you.”

A sharp clap silenced the room, and everyone rose to their feet to watch Jason who stood in front of the mirrors, with Roy standing by his side.

“Hello, everyone," Jason greeted, "My name is Jason, and that is how you will address me. I want you all to come forward and take a number from Roy, please pin it to your front as you would at the audition. When I address you by your number, please respond with your name, _and only your name,_ so we can keep things moving along.”

Tim crowded forward with Steph, slipping a page off the stack and grabbing a couple of pins from the box Roy held in his other hand. The paper crinkled familiarly as the pin slipped through into his shirt, the bold 23 staring up at him. Stephanie did a series of _chaines_ , testing the security of her own number 19, smiling pleased when it didn’t flap too obviously.

Jason structured his class the same way as Selena had, most likely a result of his own training under her. They did a bar warm up and a stretch, before pairing up and working across the floor. With their next show still unannounced and Jason seemingly uninterested in running through any other movements in the company’s repertoire, they took their places in the room to run short combinations he had jotted down on his notebook, which he fluctuated between having in his hand and resting on top of the piano.

“Twenty-three,” Jason barked, looking down to his clipboard.

“Tim,” he replied, dropping his hands from Stephanie’s waist.

“And Nine.”

“Duke,” Duke rumbled in a deep baritone from the second row.

Jason looked back up from his notation, “I want the two of you to switch.”

“What?” Tim blurted, stepping out from behind Stephanie.

Jason paused mid-step, turning back to where Tim was still standing, appraising him with dark, narrowed eyes, “Switch places,” he repeated, over-enunciating.

“Stephanie and I have been partnering for eight months,” Tim rebuked forcefully, ignoring the uncomfortable silence that was rolling off the other people in the room.

“Well, it doesn’t show,” Jason drawled, brandishing his pen with a broad sweep, “Switch.”

Tim blushed, pressing his lips together and walking past Duke with his head held determinedly high. He set his shoulders back and took his place next to his new partner.

Jason surveyed them in their altered position, nodding to himself, “Triple _pirouette_ , _sous-sus_ , and a straight lift, ladies’ arms in fifth, arch your back, full rotation and down. Five, six, seven, eight.”

Cass pivoted three times against the curve of his palms, her feet pulling together, drawing herself up as Tim braced for the lift. Her hips where narrower than Steph’s, her torso shorter, and halfway through their rotation she slipped through his fingers. Tim's breathed stilled and he tensed, catching her around the ribs, just managing to set her down safely.

“Sorry,” Tim apologized quickly.

“It’s fine,” Cass nodded, returning to fifth position.

“Again,” Jason commanded, his voice heavy with exasperation. His eyes darted briefly to where Tim stood, readjusting his position behind Cass. “Let us see if when get through a basic combo without a mistake. Five, six, seven, eight!”

The class went on, Jason calling out brusque orders as he surveyed the room. He made quick instructions, not shy about correcting anyone’s placements or technique. Whether or not Jason’s style of teaching was naturally reflective of Selena’s or if he was simply trying to intimidate them with a forceful first impression, it was jarring. Tim gritted his teeth, working harder than he had in the last nine months to be sure he didn’t make any more mistakes.

The session came to an end five minutes early, Jason nodding curtly to the pianist and grabbing his things. “Keep your numbers and wear them for rehearsal until I say so. You’re dismissed.”

“I’m so sorry I dropped you,” Tim professed in earnest, turning mortified to Cass.

“It’s okay,” Cass reassured him, “More practice, we’ll be fine.” She gave him a gentle pat on the arm before heading off to get her things.

“Well, that was intense,’ Stephanie whistled, handing Tim his gear.

Tim pushed his head through his sweatshirt, heart racing and mind still spinning. “Was I a bad partner?”

“No, of course not.”

“Why would he move me?”

“Choreographers change stuff all the time,” Stephanie shrugged, pulling on a worn pair of soft soled boots, “Could have just been a visual thing.”

“But-”

“No,” She silenced him, tossing her slippers into her own bag, “Don’t let it bother you. If you obsess over this tiny little thing, you are going to go insane. Just let it go. You and Cass looked great together after that initial flub.”

Tim continued to flail, eyeing the door that Jason had so quickly exited. “I just…”

“If Selena had made the switch, would you be worried about it?” Stephanie asked, grabbing his hand and dragging him out of the studio.

Tim hesitated, “Well, no, but-”

“So, it bothers you just because it was Jason?”

“It’s not who, it’s how!”

“Okay, so he’s tough,” Stephanie reasoned, “But you’ve never kick up a fuss over the others more forceful commentary. As I recall, Nygma had some very unfaltering remarks about your extension when you first got here.”

“Nygma is nothing but extension, the man looks like he’s built out of pool noodles,” Tim snorted, “I was new, they were always going to be hard on me when I first came in. This is different.”

“Sounds like you’re just upset you’re not the teacher’s pet.”

“Only you could make that sound so salacious.”

“It’s a gift,” Stephanie grinned, opening the door. “You should come over tonight, I found a copy of our production of _The Sleeping Beauty_ , it was the last show Jason did. Maybe it will give you some insight on your brooding mystery man.”

Tim fidgeted, twirling the uneven drawstring of his hoodie. “I will come tonight,” he agreed reluctantly, frowning as Stephanie did a little victory jig, “but only because I do not want you to punish Rae by making her watch it with you.”

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you all think! If you follow my Birdtalker series there will be an update on the one tomorrow. I hope everyone stays safe and healthy, and that 2021 will be an improvement on 2020.

**Author's Note:**

> While I never attended a prestigious Ballet Academy I have a background in Dance, specifically Tap and Ballet, so while I am certain it will not perfectly encapsulate what the actual experience at a Dance company is like, the dance aspects will be as accurate as possible. 
> 
> Calvalier is a term used for the nameless male dance partner for a featured female dancer.
> 
> Please let me know what you think!


End file.
